The Price of Protection
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: He's lost everything. Bound to Hogwarts with his Hollow and Zanpakuto, he is cursed with the task to protect the school. But Ichigo just might find that one boy has the power to change everything he's known. AU, rated M for Shiro's mouth and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Heh. Yeah, I'm back. With a new fic. That happens to be a crossover. Yeah, shoot me. Just make sure it isn't fatal. Please. **

**I want to give a huge shoutout to hp1piececraziness, who graciously allowed me to use a similar idea to one of her own fics by the name of Guardian. (which, by the way, I suggest you take a look at. It's brilliant.)**

**Ichigo and our lovely Shirosaki (aka Shiro) will be appearing shortly in this chapter. **

**So, on with the show, shall we?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Bleach in any way, shape, or form. However, I do like playing with the characters. **

**Anything you recognize is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. **

O-o-O

Perched atop a high cliff among the many craggy mountains and overlooking a majestic lake and forest, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it was an intimidating sight to see as the many First Year students hesitantly crept into the large wood framed boats that would be taking them across the lake to their destination.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, his shaggy beard and larger than usual appearance further intimidating the poor eleven year olds. "Right then- FORWARD!"

And at once, the fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the glassy surface of the black lake. Everyone was struck by the looming structure they were approaching, each stone carefully set in place and worn with age, yet retaining its elegance.

"Head's down!" Hagrid yelled as the first lines of the boats reached the cliff. On cue, they all bent down their heads, and the boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right under the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto the rocks and pebbles.

''Oy, you there! Is this your toad?'' asked Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!'' Neville cried blissfully, holding out his hands for his beloved pet. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadows of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

''Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?'' Neville nodded.

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the front door.

It swung open at once, revealing a tall, black haired witch in emerald green robes. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this person was not one to cross.

''The firs' years, Professor McGonagall.'' Hagrid said.

''Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.''

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursley's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringott's, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right- the rest of the school must already be here- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would have usually done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceramony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common-room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding young witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the msot points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.''

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudges nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

''I shall return when we are ready for you.'' Professor McGonagall stated. ''Please wait quietly.''

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry's heart gave a terrible jolt. A test? In front of the while school? But he didn't know any magic yet- what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering something very fast about all the spells she's learnt and wondering which one she'd need. Harry tried very hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursley's saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened which made him jump about a foot in the air- several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give them a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given them all the chances they deserve? Peeves gives us all a bad name and you know, and Shirosaki's not really even a ghost, not only that, but he's had about enough as the rest of us- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

''New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. ''About to be sorted, I suppose?''

A few people nodded mutely.

''Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. ''My old house, you know.''

"Move along now." said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line." Professor McGonagall told the first years, "And follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thosands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting, although there was one bright orange haired boy that caught Harry's eyes. He was reclined in his chair, his arms crossed, laughing at something another teacher had said.

Professor McGonagall led the other students up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History."_

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Pentunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing- noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it too. For a few seconds there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth- and the hat began to sing:

_'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see, _

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, _

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all. _

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might be in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindor apart;_

_You might be in Hufflepuff, _

_Where they are just and loyal, _

_Those patient Hufflepuff's are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind, _

_Where those of wit and learning, _

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!'_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

''So we've just got to try on the hat!'' Ron whispered to Harry. ''I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestlig a troll.''

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she said quite briskly.

But, before the witch could call out the first name, a rather loud screech of, "_YEEEEEE-HHAAAHHHHHH!"_ echoed around the Great Hall. All of the first years froze at the bloodchilling howl of glee, but they didn't have to wait long to see who the voice belonged to.

Through the double doors flew a little man, dressed in loud, outlandish clothes, a hat with what to appeared to be a bell attached to the end, and a vulgar orange bow tie. His black hair was just visible as he barrelled past the terrified first years, closely followed by a far more interesting figure.

He was entirely white. From his skin to his hair to his clothing, he was the representitive of the color. Other than his eyes. Amber, surrounded by seas of black. A manic grin upon his face, he tore after the tiny man, with what appreared to be a sword of some kind strapped across his back.

After doing three loops of the Great Hall, they barrelled back out the double doors, which slammed shut after their departure.

Professor McGonagall had closed her eyes in annoyance, which she then reopened as the screams and yells slowly faded into the distance and checked her list in a no-nonsense way.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaw's stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

'Brocklehurst, Mandy' went to Ravenclaw too, but 'Brown, Lavender' became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

'Bulstrode, Millicent' then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot.

He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for school teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchey, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. 'Finnigan, Seamus', the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jamed the hat eagerly on her head.

''GRYFFINDOR!'' shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted 'GRYFFINDOR', Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to 'MacDougal, Morag'.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now.

'Moon' ..., 'Nott' ..., 'Parkinson' ..., then a pair of twin girls, 'Patil' and 'Patil' ..., then 'Perks, Sally-Anne' ..., and then, at last-

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter,_ did she say?"

"_The _Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting...So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

'Not Slytherin, eh?' said the small voice. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness no doubt about that- no? Well, if you're sure- better be GRYFFINDOR!'

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was betting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled ''We got Potter! We got Potter!''

Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognised him at once from the card he'd got out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. 'Turpin, Lisa' became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as 'Zabini, Blaise' was made a Sytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he- a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But, he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs.

The Dursley's had never exactly starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good." said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you-?"

"I haven't eaten in nearly four hundred years." said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you called me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going the way he wanted.

"Like _this_." he said irritably. He siezed his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help win the house championship this year? Gryffindor have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy, who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't looked too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked." said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half and half." said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" asked Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch." said Neville, almost hesitant about his choice of words. "But the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool Pier once, I nearly drowned- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I _do_ hope they start straight away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches to needles and that sort of thing-")

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as fast as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look- a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to- everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn't look at him again.

At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem- just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be performed between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact either Madam Hooch or Kurosaki-san."

Here he gestured towards the orange haired male, who was seated next to a witch with spiky silvery hair cut short and piercing amber eyes. She wore a witch hat angled to one side and robes the same colour as the hat. They shared a look as they were mentioned before Madam Hooch smiled and Kurosaki-san chuckled.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Must be." Percy frowned, though it was directed towards Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself into snake-like words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune." said Dumbledore. "And off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

_'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _

_Teach us something please, _

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff, _

_For now they're bare and full of air, _

_Dead flies and bits of fluff_

_So teach us things worth knowing, _

_Bring back what we've forgot, _

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot.'_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music." he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.

Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered ad pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them and as Percy took a step towards them, they started throwing themselves at him.

Before they could make contact, however, a blur of white flashed by them, and in a split second every walking stick was cut in half and laying on the floor pitifully.

"Goddamn it, ya stupid ghost, I'll kill ya!" the white haired male from earlier ranted, his voice sounding slightly watery and higher pitched.

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"The Baron and I 'ave been looking for something to hunt lately.." the white haired male said again, this time with a manic grin on his face. Harry caught a glimpse of something blue.

There was a pop and the little man from earlier appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the remaining walking sticks.

"Oooooh!" he cackled. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them, bypassing everyone. They all ducked.

"Come back here, ya little bugger!" the white haired male roared, turning and pursuing the shrieking man down the corridor.

"Peeves the Poltergeist, and Shirosaki, Kurosaki-san's twin." Percy finally said, standing and navigating around the carnage that was the walking sticks. "You'll want to watch out for Peeves. The Bloody Baron and Shirosaki are the only ones who can control him. He won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked regally.

"Caput Draconis." replied Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it- Neville needed a leg up- and found themselves in the Gryyfindor common-room, a cosy, round room full of squishy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase- they were obviously in one of the towers- they found their beds at last: five four-posters with deep-red velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get _off_, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it- then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold- there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again.

O-o-O

Ichigo Kurosaki, on the other hand, was wide awake at this hour, and his empty room was lit by the faint glow of the stars.

Said male was currently wandering the halls, a light tan cloak thrown around his shoulders, concealing most of his face and lithe frame with its light weight. Beneath a slight bulge along his spine lay a large cleaver-like weapon, sheathed in white bandages.

Upon seeing a familiar tabby in his path, he smiled slightly, bending and offering a hand out in a welcoming gesture. Daintily, the tabby came closer, sniffing at his fingers before rubbing against them in an affectionate manner.

He smiled before stroking the cat a couple moments and standing.

"Shiro, I know you're there." he sighed, rolling his eyes towards the nearby shadows.

"Aww...King, yer no fun...Ya always know where I am." Shirosaki frowned, his ghostly appearance suddenly..there.

"Of course. Your reiatsu isn't exactly subtle. Come on, we have work to do."

Shirosaki rolled his oddly coloured eyes before grinning. "Let's get to work then, eh partner?"

"You know the drill." Ichigo shook his head with a faint grin before disappearing in a flash of shunpo.

Shiro snickered before turning to the tabby cat, said cat now sitting and grooming its paw. "Enjoy yer evenin', Kitty." he grinned before disappearing into thin air.

Minerva McGonagall paused in the grooming of her paw to glare at the place Shirosaki had stood not a moment before.

_He's almost as those Marauders... _she thought in amusement before continuing on her way down the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am deeply touched and amazed at the support I've already recieved for the first chapter of this fic. Within four hours, I had one review and numerous alerts. Thank you all. I'm going to mention right now that Ichigo and Shiro aren't going to play a large roll in Harry's first year. That being said, they will be contiuously making appearances until they become a larger part of the fic. **

**UPDATE: I want to thank every single one of the 19 people who have faved this fic and the 38 people who are following this fic. Your support astonishes me, and words can't describe how amazed I am that I got this much support on the first chapter alone. I'm writing for you.**

**UPDATE TWO: Went back over this, corrected some of the mistakes, edited the plot, that sort of thing. I'm taking a definite turn of events from canon here, so I hope you all have your seatbelts on. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Bleach in any way, shape, or form. However, I do like playing with the characters. **

**Anything you recognize is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.**

O-o-O

The next day, Harry drew a lot of unwanted attention from various students, ghosts, and staff. The teachers murmured among themselves, saying how unfortunate it was for the poor boy to not know anything of his heritage.

Thankfully, the prefects and a couple of the staff, including the orange haired Kurosaki, kept the crowds at bay, along with the ever terrifying Shirosaki, who showed no hesitation in brandishing his giant cleaver at any of the extremely annoying fifth-years.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some that had a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in the exact right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and Harry was sure the coats of armour could walk.

The ghosts didn't help either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist and Shirosaki were worth nightmares for a week.

Locked doors and trick staircases were just a few of the things the tiny man would use on the unknowing first years who happened to pass him by. He would drop waste-paper baskets on your head, pelt you with bits of chalk, or even sneak up behind you, completely invisible, grab your nose and screech, "_GOT YOUR CONK!"_

Shirosaki, on the other hand, never hesitated to drop out of nowhere, gigantic sword in his hands, and cackle manically as he chased the students down the corridor. Not only that, he wasn't afraid to cause injury, however mild, to the students if they got on his bad side.

Even worse than that, if possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. He'd found them trying to force their way through a door which unluckily happened to be the entrance to the out of bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Kurosaki-san (or Ichigo, as he preferred to be called), who was passing by on his way to the Quidditch Pitch, where the fifth years flying class was taking place.

Filch owned a cat by the name of Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone else (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange planets and fungi and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first lesson, he took the register, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking to the moment they'd sat down in her first class. However, halfway through her lecture, Ichigo politely knocked on her door and asked if he could sit in on her class. After giving him a disapproving look, she allowed it. The Weasley twins, when asked about the odd event, mentioned vaguely that he knew her through the school, and that was the end of that.

The class everyone had been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There had been so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. Ichigo had given them a smirk and a thumbs up as they'd glanced up towards the staff table.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins." Ron shuddered. "Snape's Head of the Slytherins. They say he always favours them- we'll be able to tell if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us." said Harry. Professor McGonagall was the Head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then the post arrived. Harry had gotten used to it over the past week, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlry with the other school owls. However, this morning she fluttered down between the marmalade and sugar bowls, a note held dutifully in her beak.

_Dear Harry, _it read in very untidy scrawl. _I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us back an answer with Hedwig. _

_Hagrid_

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, and scribbled, _Yes, please, see you later. _

It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

At the start of term banquet, Harry had got the feeling that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry- he _hated _him.

Potions took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been unpleasantly creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

After Snape took the register, taking a few seconds to mock Harry openly, things continued to go from bad to worse.

Snape had to have known that Harry wouldn't have known the answers to what surely had to have been second or third-year questions, and when he had admitted to not knowing the answer, had taunted him by throwing around his fame that he didn't even have any interest in! A point was also removed for his 'cheek'.

Later on in the lesson, Neville managed to create some kind of mutated version of the potion that was supposed to cure boils, which proceeded to explode on the poor boy and attempt to eat through the other students shoes. Along with that, the potion caused boils to appear everywhere on Neville's arms and legs. Unluckily for Harry, a bit of the potion landed on his own arm, spreading like wildfire along his skin with an unpleasant burning sensation.

After clearing away the potion and snarling at Seamus, Neville, Harry, and Ron, he allowed Seamus to accompany Harry and Neville up to the hospital wing.

O-o-O

Unfortunately, because of the incident with the potion, Harry was unable to make it to Hagrid's and have tea with him. Mournfully, he told Neville and Seamus how much he'd been looking forward to having tea with the gentle giant.

However, he learned that Seamus and Neville were actually very good company. Seamus' favourite Quidditch team was the Kenmare Kestrels, and wanted to try out for the house team in their second-year already. Neville, although quiet, had a passion for Herbology, leading Harry to question him why he did so poorly in their Potions lesson.

"Professor Snape is just so- so-" he stuttered, his round cheeks flushed.

"Terrifying? Creepy? Looming?" Seamus supplied dryly. "Trust me mate, he ain't the sort of friendly Professor like Professor Flitwick."

Harry nodded in agreement, though his attention was captured by the many moving portraits around the room. Above Madam Pomfrey's personal quarters was a portrait of a sunlit room with a patient in the bed, a soft featured nurse hovering above as she tucked in the boy and smoothed back his hair before disappearing from the frame.

Blinking, he turned his attention back to Seamus and Neville, who had fallen into an animated conversation about Quidditch, something that Harry was still a bit vague about due to lack of detail.

He found that he quite enjoyed the two boys company. They weren't _loud_, persay, but they had an aura of something bigger about them as they bickered good-naturedly and gestured wildly.

"-what do you think about Professor McGonagall, Harry?" Neville was saying, waving a hand in front of Harry's line of sight slowly.

"She's.." Harry struggled to think of the right word to describe her.

"Intimidatin', mighty, no-nonsense?" Seamus supplied helpfully, nodding at his own words. "Me mum says she's always been like this, even when they went to school together."

"Really?" Neville asked, eyes wide.

Harry hummed a quiet reply, feeling drowsy as the potion Madam Pomfrey had administered only a handful of minutes earlier kicked into effect.

O-o-O

"Kiiiinnnnnnggg...I'm _boooorreeeddd_..." Shirosaki whined, pulling the kicked puppy eyes on his twin. "Can't I go find that little bugger an' wring 'is neck? Pleeaaaseee?"

Ichigo groaned, sorely tempted to bang his head against the nearest window. Or better yet, jump _out _of the window. Yes, that sounded like a good plan...

"King, are ya even listenin' to me?" Shiro deadpanned, waving a pale hand in front of his warmer counterparts face. Following Ichigo's example, he glanced over his shoulder before grinning. "Awww...King, you should know better than to try to jump outta the window by now..Don't ya remember the last time we tried that scenario?"

Ichigo plastered his signature scowl across his face, remembering the incident with great annoyance. He would _kill _Shiro if he ever tried the same trick again. He'd been in pain for a _week_, much to the entertainment of the rest of the staff. The embarrassment had driven him to hide in their room for another week, and he swore that there were still pictures lingering about in the castle.

Yes, he would kill Shiro if he _ever _drove him to do something like that again.

O-o-O

Dinner that night was uneventful, for the most part. Ichigo was startled to see that Harry Potter was not in their midst for the evening, and made a comment to Madam Hooch about it. She, in turn, turned to Professor McGonagall and asked about it, to which she sighed and spoke for a moment. Madam Hooch turned back to Ichigo.

"He was in Potions and another boy got some of his potion on him." she explained before going back to pretending to listen to Dumbledore's usual few words before dinner.

Ichigo smiled faintly at the thought of Harry already taking after the Marauders. If they weren't in the Hospital Wing because of something they did, it was usually because of something that someone else did to them.

With that thought in mind, he decided to go visit him tomorrow should he still be there.

And now that he thought about it, weren't flying lessons coming up as well?

O-o-O

**A/N: Well, I'm going to reply to your reviews. I'll do my best to answer any questions you have, and I'm completely willing to chat if you want to pm me for more info. So here we go!**

**Singer [-chanting- Shiro! Shiro! Shiro! Shiro! YAAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!] **I'm glad you liked it, sweetie. Don't you worry, there's going to be a lot more Shiro like that. Just you wait. *strikes pose*

**deathbykitsune: [hand it to shiro to give a show before they even get the sorting even started. LOL] **It was tempting me. I kid you not, I had that scene planned out before I even started writing. I needed a random, entertaining way to introduce him, and this one fit the bill. Plus, it's completely in chracter for Shiro.

**killroy225: [will there be hollows in this? please upload the next chapter soon!] **To be completely honest, I don't know yet. I'm considering it, but it's kind of a difficult decision to make. Not to mention that there are some smaller details I've still got to figure out. But, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

**Grim Kitty Kisa: [I like this so far. I also find it amusing the i just started rereading harry potter.] **Good news then! This fic is going to basically follow the storyline up until the later books, so no worries.

**ExpectoPatronum11: [This seems interesting. Keep it up, and update soon!] **Thank you! Personally, I thought it was going to be a bit boring considering I'm only following the plot of the books, but I appreciate the review!

**fokker333: [****Ooh, very interesting beginning you've started with. I'm curious to know what Ichigo's background is and how he got to be at Hogwarts. Is he going to be the only Bleach character, or are you going to introduce more? I think that with the proper developments this story has quite the potential. I hope you update soon, and keep up the good work!] **Ichigo's background is going to be introduced in the second book, but only bits and pieces of it are going to be dropped here and there. As for other characters, Hichigo, Zangetsu, and Ichigo are the only three who will be making an appearance, though there will be mentions of other characters as time goes on. As for developments, thank you!

**volvagia09: [This is really really really really REALLY interesting and I would love to read a lot more of it, so pleeeeeeeaaaaaase continue !] **Already? Thank you! Luckily, I'm doing all of the books, so I'm going to be continuing this over god knows how long.

**ScreamOfTruth: [It's a really good story. But I was going to press the next button you see, to read the next chapter; only to find it missing... Think you could fix that some time soon?] **Thank you! Oh dear, I hope this solves that problem. You see, lately I've become obsessed with finishing When We Stand Together, and this poor fic still hasn't been updated because of it. Don't worry, I plan on updating The Price of Protection more consistently in the near future!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow. Two reviews within ten minutes of my posting the second chapter? I'm shocked. Honestly shocked. Are you people stalking me or something? *laughs nervously* Well, no matter. I'll be answering any reviews I recieve at the bottom of the chapters, so keep them coming!**

**UPDATE: Went back over this, corrected some of the mistakes, edited the plot, that sort of thing. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Bleach in any way, shape, or form. However, I do like playing with the characters. **

**Anything you recognize is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. **

O-o-O

Harry had never believed he would meet another boy he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy.

Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical." said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself." Neville encouraged nervously. "I know Draco's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet it's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Something that amused Harry to no end as he listened to the wild tales. Even Ron Weasley would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move. (Personally, Harry quite liked soccer, though he'd never been given an opportunity to try his hand at it.)

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had a good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Not that they were _always _his fault. He just had extraordinarily bad luck.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book- not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him treats from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. Harry didn't particularly mind, though he couldn't help but notice the orange haired Kurosaki conveniently catch the blond boy in the middle of his rumor spreading a couple of times.

O-o-O

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother one morning. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you forgot to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red- oh..." his face fell, because the Remembrall suddenly glowed scarlet. "You've forgotten something..."

Seamus burst into loud laughter at the baffled expression on Neville's face, while Harry was doing his best not to do the same.

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Seamus jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but the orange haired Kurosaki appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"What's going on?" Ichigo asked coolly, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Sir."

Scowling, Malfoy dropped the Remembrall back on the table at Ichigo's look.

"Just looking." he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

O-o-O

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Neville, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, accompanied by Ichigo, arrived shortly after they did. She had short grey hair and eyes like a hawk. Ichigo's bright orange hair fluttered lightly in the breeze, a slight smirk on pulling at his lips as he surveyed the group.

"Well? What are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom." called Madam Hooch from the front, "And say 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, though Harry: there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch and Ichigo both demonstrated how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Seamus were delighted when Ichigo informed Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened on being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet- twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and-

WHAM- a thud and a whoosh of air and Neville was suddenly landing on Ichigo, who had appeared out of nowhere below the falling boy. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

"Well done, Kurosaki." Madam Hooch said briskly, walking towards the pair. "No damage done, I assume?"

"A bit of shock. Nothing a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey can't fix." Ichigo wheezed. Harry was sure that Ichigo was the one who should be going to the hospital wing, but at seeing Neville's pale face, decided that it was probably the best idea to get Neville to see Madam Pomfrey.

"I'll take him." Madam Hooch said briskly, lifting Neville rather gently off of the bright haired teen. "Come on, boy- it's alright, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

She led the pale boy off, his eyes wide with shock.

No sooner they were out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Parvati Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson tittered, a hard faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Ichigo cleared his throat. "Parkinson, detention. Malfoy, also detention. Patil, five points for standing up for Longbottom."

"What!?" Malfoy screeched. "How dare you give me a detention!"

"Easily. I just did." Ichigo replied, much to the amusement of the Gryffindors. "Now, unless you want another one, I suggest that you shut up and wait for Madam Hooch."

Malfoy sulkily walked back over to the Slytherins, where they took turns glaring at the orange haired male. "He must have been Gryffindor." Pansy Parkinson sniffed. "There's no other explanation for it."

"Actually, you're incorrect." Ichigo said, glancing over at the Slytherins with narrowed eyes. "I've never been Sorted in my life."

Now that got everyone's attention.

"What do you mean, you've never been Sorted?" Malfoy said haughtily. "Too inbred, I suppose?"

"You could say something like that." Ichigo shrugged. "But I've been at Hogwarts for longer than you think."

Malfoy stored that bit of information at the back of his mind, determined to write to his father and get this rebellious servant fired. As he moved away from the other Slytherins, he spotted something shining from the ground.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy." Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch, including Ichigo, who was mildly curious as to how this would turn out.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble."

"Shut it, Granger." Ichigo snapped suddenly. "I am a Professor, and I am monitoring this class. And unless it's seriously life threatening, they're on their own."

Harry mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him- and in a fierce rush of joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught- this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Seamus.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in the midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here." Harry called. "Or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. He glanced down at the ground, where Ichigo was watching, arms crossed. It seemed to dawn on him that no matter what he did in this situation, he was going to be in big trouble. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and then threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down- next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams from people watching- he stretched out his hand- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"_HARRY POTTER!"_

His heart sank fast than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them, Ichigo in the background talking to Draco Malfoy, who looked both terrified and angry. He got to his feet, trembling.

"Never- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously. "- how dare you- might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil."

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now. _KUROSAKI!_ You too."

Ichigo paused in lecturing Malfoy before snapping something and walking over, hands shoved into his pockets. "Hey McGonagall. How are you today?"

"Don't you 'McGonagall' me, Kurosaki." she hissed before whirling and stalking off, spine rigid.

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Ichigo put a hand on his shoulder and nodded once at him, a vague smirk pulling at his lips. "Nice work, Potter. Just like your dad."

Harry was going to inquire further, but Ichigo sighed and shook his head at the glare McGonagall sent him.

Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; they had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he showed up on the doorstep?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as a gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Neville and Seamus and the others becoming wizards, while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag.

Ichigo looked rather relaxed with the situation. He didn't seem at all concerned that he could very well be fired as Harry was expelled.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused. Ichigo grinned at him, waving from behind McGonagall. "Hey Wood. Charms bore you to tears yet?"

Wood shook his head, a small smirk on his features. "Not yet, Kurosaki."

"Follow me, you three." interrupted Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves and Shirosaki, who were busy gleefully writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out!" she barked.

"Shirosaki!" Ichigo snarled.

Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, while Shirosaki tossed it casually to one side.

"Hey Ichi." Shirosaki waved cheerily before swooping out after a cursing Peeves. Ichigo sputtered indignantly for a couple of moments, his face flushing, before he spat something unpleasant and scowled.

Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind the two and turned to face the two boys, Ichigo momentarily forgotten.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood- I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely." said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Kurosaki can vouch for him, too."

"Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" Wood questioned eagerly.

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a forty-foot dive." Ichigo shrugged. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team." Professor McGonagall explained to the baffled Harry.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too." said Wood, now talking a walk around Harry and staring at him. "Light- speedy- we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor- a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the eye for weeks..."

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud." she said softly. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

O-o-O

"You're joking."

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Seamus and Neville what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron Weasley had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never- you must be the youngest house player-"

"In about a century." said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry. Neville and Seamus beamed and patted him on the back. "That's our boy!" they chorused before bursting into laughter.

"I start training next week." said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done." said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too- Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year." said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet you it's the one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you." Harry stated coolly. There was of course nothing little at all about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own." Malfoy defended. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a Wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has." Seamus snapped, wheeling himself around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe." he said. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, the three looked at each other. "What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die." said Seamus casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what happens if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose." Ron suggested.

"Kick him in the shins?" Neville offered timidly.

"Wave your wand dramatically to distract him before giving him a right hook." Seamus nodded.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you could." Ron muttered.

"- and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business." said Harry.

"So shoo." Seamus said.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Ron falling asleep. Seamus had spent all evening giving him advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you better dodge it, because I don't remember how to block them." There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness- this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half-past eleven." Seamus muttered at last. "We'd better go."

They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched back shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"You!" Seamus nearly snarled. "Go back to bed!"

"Shut it!" Hermione snapped back. " I almost told Percy- he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Harry couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on." he said to Seamus. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Seamus through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you really only care for yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem." said Harry. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you." she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve-" said Harry.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris.

"A pity, then." a shrill voice that didn't belong to any of the first-years cackled. "Ah, this is when it pays to be on patrol in the corridors."

They had been found by Shirosaki.

O-o-O

**A/N: Okay. I have a few in depth reviews I need to reply to, considering it heavily affects the plot of this fic. Remember, I thrive on reviews, and will do my best to answer any questions or concerns you have. **

**ScreamOfTruth: [My, you're making me red with all the attention. But I'm glad you fixed that problem, I can't wait to read more. If you ever need anything, I'll be around... Somewhere. I write stories too, but I haven't updated cause I have been alone lately. When I'm alone I tend to read or write. I think I'll look at your other fics as well... I might be addicted.] **Aha. Yes, I fixed the problem indeed. I'm glad I've managed to interest you, even though the chapters are slow. Feel free to look around my profile. I warn you now, however, that I'm a bit of a slacker when it comes to updating.

**killroy225: [from what i have read, this will take basically the same theme/timeline as the books? or will you add parts where Ichigo will be his badass self?] **This fic is essentially the plot of Harry Potter, with Ichigo, Zangetsu, and Shiro all thrown in. Don't worry, Ichigo will be his usual badass self eventually. You just have to wait a little before it can happen.

**Singer: [-rocking back and forth in corner- Ichi-nii... He's everywhere! -spasms-] **...Okay, sweetie. Whatever you say. Try to leave off the caffeine for a while, yes?

**volvagia09: [I just noticed that it id practically a chapter from the first book, only that Ichigo had some appearances. I have to admit that I scipped some lines because I still remember them for I just read the first book today, but that's just me. If you continue I think I will forget most of the stuff in the book anyways. I hope this won't get boring too soon when xou go through all of the books for I would love to see how Ichigo fits into the story of 'Harry Potter' :D] **As I mentioned in the first chapter, Ichigo will not be playing a large roll in the plot of the first book. It isn't going to be until the second book that he begins to influence Harry and the plot of the fic. *winkwink* We'll also be getting more pieces of the puzzle to put together on his past. There's only going to be a couple chapters until the entrance of the second book anyway, so hopefully you'll stick with me a little longer to see our lovely strawberry make his usual badass entrance.

**Grim Kitty Kisa: [I like it, so far I'm really looking forward to the next book. I'm also looking forward to quidditch. If you wanted you could probably add hollows in the third book along with the dementors] **You're totally right, I could add Hollow into the third book, but again, there are some small details that absolutely must not be overlooked.


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